Birthdays for teenagers

You know how teenagers say we don’t care about our birthdays and it’s just another day of the year – who cares right? Honestly, it’s a big bluff because I care about my birthday. I just wouldn’t put it out there.

Even though I had to sit through a family lunch and strained gift giving, I managed. My parents, as usual, were both ticked off because I had only stumbled through the front door at ten or maybe it was earlier. I’m not sure, but they were beside themselves because they’d gone round to grandmas’ to surprise me with the usual spiel after morning mass and of course, I wasn’t there.

But what a night! It was amazing. I danced on the table. Played bartender. Kissed some random called Owly without it going any further. I just wanted to be free for a few hours. I just wanted to feel normal and whole again. No one understands how broken and empty I feel. No one wants to understand. He didn’t even message me for my birthday.

I don’t know why I’m so stupid either. I knew he wouldn’t. He has an English girlfriend. She’s just everything I’m not. That hurt. He’s moved on and erased me like I meant nothing. So I wanted to do the same. I wanted to recreate my birthday and party like he never ever happened to me.

But today. Today I’m back at it. Journaling and planning my bright and beautiful future. I think, personally, that the best revenge is to become amazing. I went about it the wrong way before. Nearly destroying myself, my family and my future in the process.

I loved him so much. I thought my heart would burst out of my chest. I loved the way he just got me. Then I made it so easy for him to just ruin me. I gave away my power. Me. Chloe Vollenhoven. I am a woman. The most powerful creature in all creation and I tied all my worth to a boy. Not to my education which no one can take from me. Not my character which will help me be confident and open future doors for me. Not my family or friends who despite our fights will always support and love me. Nooo, a stupid boy. Full of hormones and with nothing to offer me but chocolates I could just have asked my dad to buy me.

And dad. I think I broke his heart. Stupid tears are spilling onto this cheap paper because I don’t like thinking about it. I’m his little girl. The only one who can make him do anything he really doesn’t want to and I ruin it. I don’t know if he will ever see me the same way again.

And mom. I know she can’t be broken. She’s the strongest woman I know. Even stronger than grandma. Okay, maybe not as strong but she’s strong too and I’ve shaken her. Like she’s scared for me.

And that just makes me scared for me too.

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